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Chapter 18:

'Stupid, evil vampire,' Buffy thought as she rummaged through her closet, looking for something to wear. She now either had to dress up - and most likely ruin a perfectly good dress when they got into a fight, with each other or something else - or look like a complete loser next to him in his suit.

Who knew Spike owned a suit, much less could tie a tie. And he looked so. . . sexy. How could he do this to her?

After much debate, she settled on a dark green dress. It wasn't her first choice, which was black, or her second choice, which was red, colors too sexy for this date. They might give Spike ideas. Green was a nice safe color. Even if the dress did have spaghetti straps and showed off a good amount of cleavage.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that she would have to wear nylons and heels, which would be a nightmare when she ended up having to slay something. Not to mention she liked the feel of the skirt as it swished around her legs.

Once she was well shod, she looked herself over in the mirror again. Not bad for twenty minutes work. Not good either. There just wasn't time to either curl her hair, or put it up nicely. She would never have gone out this way with anyone else. All her other dates usually had an hour's preparation, but it was Spike. Just cause he looked nice. . .

Stupid, evil vampire.

She made her way downstairs to find her mom and Spike sitting on the couch talking. She was only half way down the stairs when Spike noticed her.

He stood up immediately. "You look. . . beautiful."

'How cheesy can you get?' thought Buffy. Like this wasn't a scene out of almost any movie or TV show. No way was she going to let Spike charm her this easy. In fact, she resolved not to be charmed at all.

Still, her mom was there, and she needed to earn some points.

"Thank you," she said politely.

"Did you see the lovely flowers Spike got you?" her mother asked, taking a vase full of roses off the mantle.

Buffy hadn't really noticed. She'd been too busy trying to get her mind around the idea of Spike in a suit. Looking at the roses Buffy was once again thrown. They were obviously store bought roses, he hadn't just raided some poor old lady's garden. No, they had those itty-bitty white flowers that you got at a real flower shop. Of course, reflected Buffy, he still could have stolen them from a flower shop.

"They're very nice," she said.

"Well, I'm obviously not wanted here," her mother said. "Have a good time, you two."

"Shall we?" asked Spike.

She nodded and he went to open the front door for her.

As she got outside she breathed a sigh of relief. First of all, now that she was out of her mother's presence, she didn't have to be so polite anymore. Secondly, Spike's DeSoto was parked in front of her house. It made her feel more confident that Spike was just Spike.

Spike seemed determined to keep up the act, as he opened the car door for her too.

"So, where are we going?" she asked as he sat in the driver's seat.

"The Paper Moon."

Buffy gasped. She had never been there, but she'd always wanted to go. She'd imagined that that was where Riley would take her when he proposed. It was the nicest restaurant in Sunnydale. The place that girls like Cordelia had gone to before the prom.

"Um, Spike can you afford that?"

"I've got money. And," he cut her off before she could interrupt, "I didn't steal it or kill anyone for it, or anything like that. In case you were wondering."

Luckily Sunnydale was a smallish town, so they arrived quickly - before the awkward silence could go on too long.

As they pulled up in front of the restaurant, Spike once again opened the door for her, as he gave his keys to the valet. Buffy giggled at the look the valet gave the car with the blacked out windows. Obviously he didn't think Spike could afford to take her here either.

Spike offered her his arm. She looked at him strangely for a moment, but she figured she could stand to be polite for another minute or so. After all, they were probably about to be thrown out of the place, and that would give her ammunition against him for a long time. She would just have to survive the immediate humiliation.

He took her inside, and told the maitre d' that they had reservations for two, under the name Summers. A waiter came to lead them to their table.

"Do you even have a last name?" she whispered.

He simply shrugged.

Before she could press him on it, they walked through double doors into the main restaurant and Buffy's breath was taken away. It was everything she'd ever dreamed it would be. The restaurant was shaped like a dome. The ceiling painted with stars like an idyllic night sky. Lights dangled like stars from the painted sky.

A large balcony ringed with tables circled the center of the room, which was a dance floor. At the far end, a band played light jazz as couples danced to the music. It reminded Buffy of the clubs you always saw in 30's movies. She found herself clinging to Spike in excitement.

The waiter led them to a table near the railing of the balcony and overlooking the dance floor. The waiter pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down across from Spike. He handed them their menus, then turned to Spike and asked him if they would like anything to drink.

Spike asked for something French sounding, and the waiter left.

"Gee, maybe ask me what I want?" Buffy said sarcastically. She opened her menu and found that their were no prices next to anything.

"I ordered a bottle of wine for both of us. I figured you'd like something sweet."

"Oh. . . well. . . okay, but don't think about getting me drunk," she joked. Seeking to change the subject she said, "Kind of underhanded of them not to put prices on the menu."

Spike choked, and started to chuckle.

"You've never been to a fancy restaurant before, have you? Your menu doesn't have any prices; mine does."

"For the record I've been to some of the best restaurants in L.A. My dad started taking me around the time of the divorce. I guess I really didn't pay any attention to the prices. Besides isn't it kind of sexist? I mean what if I was paying for half?"

"You offering?"

"No."

"Then don't complain. Just order whatever you want."

"You better have enough money to cover this, cause if I end up washing dishes, you end up inside a vacuum cleaner."

"Could you trust me just this much? I have the money, okay. Now figure out what you want."

He sounded annoyed, which suited Buffy just fine. It was familiar arguing with him like this. Comfortable.

The waiter returned with a bottle of wine. He uncorked it at the table, and poured a little into Spike's glass. Spike picked up the glass, sniffed it, swirled the wine around and took a sip. He nodded to the waiter who then filled both their glasses.

He then took their orders. Spike ordered a steak, rare and Buffy ordered lobster. She loved lobster and hadn't had it since she was little. Back then it had always seemed too much effort to break into the shell, but she figured Slayer strength had to be good for something.

When the waiter left, Spike turned to her and held out his hand, "Would you like to dance?"

She looked at him, then down to the dance floor where people were waltzing.

"That's real dancing you know, not Bronze dancing."

"Sorry, pet," he said while taking his hand back. "I didn't realize you didn't know how to waltz."

"I can waltz. Who said I couldn't waltz?" She stood up defiantly and let Spike lead her to the dance floor.

He took her hand in his and put his other hand on her waist. She rested her free hand lightly on his shoulder, and they began to dance. It only took a moment for Buffy to feel swept away. Her dad had taught her to waltz when she was little for her aunt's wedding. And she had danced, but only with the ring bearer who'd been trying to get out of the whole thing.

This was the first time she'd ever waltzed with a real man. It was different than the sort of slow dancing she was used to. First of all, it wasn't all that slow. Once Spike realized she really did know what she was doing, he lead her around the dance floor to the time of the music. They spun around and around, weaving in and out of the other couples. Her gaze was drawn to his eyes, and the rest of the world seemed to spin away as if it wasn't actually real.

All too soon the music ended. Everyone applauded the band, which started playing a livelier tune. Some of the couples went to sit down while others started dancing to the new music. Buffy started to pull away but Spike held her firmly.

"Our food won't be ready yet, why not dance some more?"

"I don't know how to dance. . . like that." She nodded toward the couples who were swing dancing.

He smiled at her and started back to the table, "All right, but I could show you some other time. If you like?"

Actually Buffy had always wanted to learn to swing dance, but slaying always seemed to interfere with those sorts of plans.

"Maybe, I don't really have much time for this sort of thing." Noncommittal was always good.

When they got back to the table, Spike pulled out the chair for her. He obviously intended to go all the way with the gentleman thing, which was good, cause it meant he couldn't expect anything from her at the end of the night.

"So how'd you learn to dance?" she asked him.

"Which kind? Used to be everyone knew how to dance. I know it's the fashionable thing, nowadays for men not to dance, but in my time we loved it. Only sociably acceptable way of touching the ladies," he said with a smirk.

"Figures. Is everything about sex with you?"

"Of course not. Some things are about fighting and killing." Despite his words, his tone was joking.

Buffy rolled her eyes dramatically, but she was amused just the same.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

It would be so easy, thought Spike, to give in to her. To let her have her way. To take her back to his crypt and ravish her till morning. The only problem was, she was drunk.

Inwardly he cursed himself for ordering wine. How could he have been expected to know that the Slayer couldn't hold her liquor? She had vampire-like stamina, why couldn't she have the vampire constitution as well?

Instead here she was, nibbling on his ear and groping him as he was trying to drive her home.

He could hear the sound of a zipper, followed by her hand reaching down to grab him. Groaning, he quickly pulled the car over.

"Buffy, stop," he told her, his voice tortured yet hopeful. He couldn't quite bring himself to remove her hand though.

"Why?" she looked at him smiling.

'That was a bloody good question,' he thought. After all he was evil, it shouldn't bother him to take advantage of her like this. He'd done it before. He may have claimed that he hadn't known about the magics involved the night they'd had sex, but that was a lie. He hadn't known exactly what was wrong with her, but he'd known she wasn't herself.

Things had been different then. He'd thought of her as his mortal enemy. But now? He wanted her, wanted her desperately. But he wanted her willing. He wanted her to choose him, to want to be with him - in the same way he wanted to be with her.

She licked her lips and started to bend down. Quickly, he grabbed the back of her head to stop her. He knew that the moment her mouth touched his cock he'd have no will left. She turned back to face him and ran her free hand across his chest.

"Don't you want me to suck your cock?" she asked innocently.

Not trusting himself to answer her, he thrust his tongue into her mouth instead, tasting her. As her tongue battled with his, he couldn't help but momentarily losing himself in the fantasy of it licking his cock.

After indulging himself for several minutes, he pulled back.

"You're drunk," he told her with a hint of reproach.

"Am not."

"I can taste it, luv."

"Well, yeah, but I only had one glass of wine."

"Which was refilled several times. Besides, I thought no sex was one of the rules?"

"It's not sex, it's a blow job," she insisted.

"Only if you're the president. Look, tomorrow, once you've soberred up, you're more than welcome to play with me however you want. Just, not tonight."

Buffy sat back and pouted, jutting out her lip in the most endearing way. Once again, Spike found he was cursing himself. Why did Buffy have to choose now of all times to start listening to him? Why couldn't she just force herself on him? It's not like she'd be able to blame him in the morning that way. After all, he wasn't capable of fighting her.

Instead, she just re-buckled her seat-belt, and he had no choice but to start the car up again and drive her home.





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